One Month
by RedHotCumberbitch
Summary: "Today I have spent seven hours helping the labs residential Sociopath with his case which includes the faking of his death." She had no choice, but it was the best she had ever made. M-rated in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Ready for some more Sherolly?**

Chapter One:

_Dear mental diary, _

_Today I have spent seven hours helping the labs residential Sociopath with his case which includes the faking of his death. As usual I agreed to everything due to my idiotic feeling for him which again he knows about and exploits them almost every day, but me being me I know he's doing it and just can't stop myself. One upside is that he survived the fall of the top of the Hospital roof, on the downside… I am now involved in an illegal act that could result in me losing my job and everything I have worked so god damn hard for because of the man who is sitting next to me at this very moment, traveling to MY flat where he is apparently going to be hiding for the NEXT MONTH while things are sorted out. Not that I, THE OWNER of said flat was told! _

"Molly could you think a little more quietly please? That would be a great help thank you." He was typing on his phone and didn't even bother to look at her when he spoke. Molly looked at the girl opposite her. She had been informed that this woman was Mycroft's P.A. though Sherlock liked to refer to her as his brother's 'Goldfish' whatever that meant.

Anthea was about the same age as her, maybe a little older but not by much. She was dress in a smart black dress with the same coloured jacket and shoes to match. Her hair was straight with a slight curl and the ends. The skin was smooth and had an olive tone to it, her lips were parted a bit as her brown eyes flicked between Holmes and herself. Clearly Anthea and she were thinking the same thing. _What a tosser. _

"Miss Hooper, I'm right in thinking that you have agreed security terms with my employer?"

"With Mycroft? Oh yes…we …"

"All that has been sorted out yes. I am to stay at Molly's flat…"

"Which Molly didn't know about." Interjected the young Pathologist.

Sherlock gave her a look of not really understanding why it was such a big deal and why did she had to bring it up, before carrying on to say, "until all threats in the UK to do with Moriarty have been dealt with. After that I am to leave to track down the rest, which would mean agents monitoring both Miss Hooper and the rest of my friends while I am gone." Sherlock put his phone in his jacket pocket and looked towards Molly. "Don't worry you won't even know they are there, that is if their good at their job." He added giving a glance to Mycroft's P.A.

_No worries then. _

….

When the pair reached her flat Mycroft was there waiting for them. She couldn't take much more of this, Molly wondered if anyone had spared just a second to think about how all of this was effecting her. She just wanted to sleep, to put her feet on the coffee table with a glass of wine in one hand and toby sat on her lap. _Oh here we go. Say bye bye to an early night Molly. _

"Miss Hooper. I do apologise for this but could vacate the room for a moment while we discuss details." Mycroft wasn't asking he was ordering her politely. _This is my fucking flat! _Anthea seemed to be once again thinking the same thing. "Thank you."

….

"How do you put up with him? I mean Sherlock is bad, but he…"

"Is okay really." She set down her phone and closed the door. Looking at Molly she continued. "We if we can't hear them, they can't hear us." She winked. The girls would spend the next twenty minutes comparing the two brothers. Who was the less irritating when bored? Who would win a fight if it came to that? And how long each of the men could last doing the others job? It was the most exciting conversation, but it passed the time Molly was desperate to ask if her new 'friend' was in fact sleeping with Sherlock's brother. However by the time Molly had plucked up the courage to ask the door to her kitchen was opened by another stranger informing the two that meeting was over and she and Holmes the younger were to be left in peace.

_Alone with Sherlock? Is that worse than been told what to do in your own flat by a bunch of strangers?_

…..

"How are you know then?"

"Fine."

"Good." Molly had no idea what to do or say or where to sit. "Coffee?" Sherlock was sat on her sofa his head tilted up, not looking anywhere in particular and still in his coat and scarf.

"Don't feel like you have to talk to me Molly." Holmes stated closing his eyes a moment. "But yes coffee would be nice."

The kettle boiled, and the mugs filled up with a tasty brown hot liquid from what was just power, she put two sugars in each. Molly, as she passed, opened a cupboard and took something from it. Sherlock was listening to every noise she made and to calm himself tried to imagine what the scene looked like as it played out to the side of him.

"Irish or English?"

"Sorry what?" She didn't speak only shook a bolt of whisky as she put the coffee down in front of her with a smile. "Irish." That was his reply to her. And with that the tenseness of the moment had gone.

"It's a sofa bed so since you're the guest you can choose…"

"I've already taken your flat for my own without asking you. I am not going to kick you out of your own bed Molly."

"Good, I wouldn't let you have had it anyway."


	2. Chapter 2

**Right here it is... chapter two. i'm sorry it took so long to up date. please do leave a review. x**

...

Chapter Two:

It was six forty-five PM, Sherlock had been hiding in Molly's flat for four days now and it was beginning to take its toll on her already. _I'm going to kill him. _She thought. _If he doesn't stop complaining about that bloody sofa bed! I swear to god! _She had offered him her bed again seen as she was working the night shift for the next week, but being Sherlock he preferred to have something to moan about. How was she meant to put up with this for a month? How had John been able to put up with this?

John, which was the one thing she hated the most about this whole affair, having to lie to him about Sherlock's death made her hate herself. There was nothing more she wanted to do than rapped her arms around the broken man's neck and tell him everything. To tell him that everything will be alright, that he doesn't have to worry, Sherlock is safe in her flat arguing with Toby about seating. But she couldn't, even if she could what would she say to them all? "_Sorry guys I was lying about Sherlock being dead. Forgive me?"_ Or what about? "_Look everyone I helped Sherlock fake his death and he's been hiding at my flat." _

Molly pulled on her jacket and slipped on her flats. She hated the night shift it was just her in the Morgue watching the clock tick by trying to think up ways to stay awake. "Bye."

"What? Where are you going?"

"Work. I told you."

"When?"

Molly watch as he raised his eyebrows in utter confusion. She felt like slapping that arrogant bastard. How dare he?! She could have kicked him out. She still could… well in her mind at least. (Getting Sherlock Holmes to do something he doesn't want is like trying to convince a lion to stop eating meat and go vegie, impossible.) He could at least make a small effort to listen to her once in a while. "Bye."

"What time do you finished?" His voice resonated as she left the flat.

….

Sherlock sat there for a moment looking at the door. The room was now quiet, not that Sherlock minded much, but it would have been nicer if Molly was there to make him coffee when he needed it. Now it was just him and her annoying ginger tomcat, who at this moment seemed to give him a look of sympathy instead of his normal hateful one. "Guess I should get used to this?" he said as he turned back from the door to the laptop that was for the moment resting on the sofa arm. He had for the past few days been emailing and responding to his brother on the subject of how long it would be before he was able to set off. He wasn't sure how long he would be or if he would even come back, but the longer he waited the more time the network had to get away.

14th of February. 5:00 am. Heathrow to Calais.

Mycroft.

_Just less than a month. _He thought running his eyes over the very short email from his brother. _What am I meant to do for a month? _

…

"Ah Molly at last."

_Shit!_ The young pathologist turned towards the low voice that came from behind her. _Why in god's name are you still here Dave?! _She was fifteen minutes late, and when you work with a man like Dave, being fifteen minutes late is the end of the world. "Look Dave…"

"David, Molly. My name is David and you said you wouldn't be late."

"David look I can't help it if the trains are late can I!" Molly growled at him. She didn't mean to sound so angry but it just came out. He did kind of deserve it but still, she shouldn't have, it was Sherlock she was angry with. Oh the poor man's face, he looked like a rabbit in the headlights. She was going to speck when he made a noise first.

"No-no I know that, but you could have text me."

"I-I'm sorry." At last he let her go. Molly help but wonder why he was so bothered about her? Most people would have put it down to his OCD but there was something in his eyes that nulled that out thought. She had seen a look like that before, but where?

By the time she got to the Morgue and had started the first of the seven autopsies she had to do it was eight o'clock. Her hands shuck as she made the first cut into the young body that lay in front of her. Sometimes she hated this job. _What on earth could this young boy have done to deserve death? _Molly asked herself over the six year olds body. He had come in just before her shift had started, in his file Greg had left a quick note of his and DS Donovan's suspicions hoping that she could prove they were right about the family. They suspected the father, police always suspect the father in cases like this. Molly stopped and sat on stool she always kept close. Thoughts of her Mother and how she used to treat her. That was the reason she moved away from home so soon and why when her Dad died she didn't speak to her again. He had been the only reason that she had put with her.

Molly was pulled from her thoughts as the door opened. It was Mike in his hands he heled to mugs of steaming liquid. "Mols?"

"Yeah?" She sighed.

"You okay?"

"Six year old killed by one of his parents."

"Ah."

When the coffee was gone and the conversation dead Mike left and Molly continued with the work she had yet to finish. When the end of the night finally came Molly slung her bag over her shoulder and walk out of the Hospital. Like normal she had spent the last two hours watching the clock and tapping her finger ends on the work top. Not a single text from Holmes. Which in a way was nice, though she was a little worried about him. _He's a grown man. He can take care of himself. He's Sherlock Holmes. _

…

However when Molly got home she failed to notice the missing Sherlock, instead she just headed straight to the back bedroom. The Mornings where still dark, it was only five o'clock and Molly just didn't have it in her to turn on and off lights to get undressed she couldn't even be bothered to put her night dress on. Her clothes and shoes covering the floor from the door to the bed the half-naked Molly pulled back the covers and got in.

"AH!" Molly squeaked at the feel of someone's bare leg against her's. Sherlock shifted slightly, but didn't wake. So he had taken her up on her offer? And it was then that it hit Molly, Sherlock Holmes was in her bed with her. _Oh shit! Is that? Oh my god. _She felt like giggling and tried her best to fight the shudders that ran through her.

...

please do review xxx


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

_Dear Mental Diary, Sherlock Holmes has been at my flat for about four days. He is now fast asleep in my bed after finally stopping his complaining about the sofa. But oh it gets worse, the man I have fancied for years has a boner which is at this moment nudging into my back. What the hell am I meant to do? Wake him up? _

The dawn was rising and light was beginning to shine through the small net curtain covered window. She couldn't stand the light in her eyes so… she turned towards him slowly. Molly shut her eyes tight and tried to forget her situation. That was until she felt a large hand rest on her waist. His hand may have been above the covers but as it slipped over the curve of her bum she couldn't help but shudder.

"Sherlock?" She whispered not sure if she wanted him to be awake or not. "Sherlock what are you doing?"

"Nothing you don't want." He murmured.

"Sh…Sherlock I…I…" Molly watched as he propped himself up. His eyes roamed over her then back to her eyes. Sherlock had leant down and had kissed her sweetly at first, but soon those kisses turned rough and passionate, their toughs tangled and fought for dominance. Soon she was on her back with his lips kissing their way down her stomach, her hips, her thighs and _Ohh! _Molly threw her head back as she felt his hand lift her thigh and hook her leg over his shoulder. She knew what was coming and she loved it. "My God." She whispered breathlessly.

"Close enough." Holmes nipped and licked at her inner thigh lightly.

"You…arrogant… Ohhh! What makes you think I want you?"

Sherlock lifted his head from between her legs and looked at her, licking the taste of her from around his lips he moved up her body. "Molly look at yourself. You are a mess. I've barely done a thing and you're already panting." He began to kiss her again.

She gave in completely, if he wanted to do this then she wasn't going to stop him, not him not Sherlock. Molly turned underneath him and reached to open the bedside draw. _Where are you? Oh for… Ah there, thank you god! _Molly held up the condom packet and winked at him nodding her head towards his boxers.

"You're not on the pill?" he frowned.

"Doesn't work with the tablets I'm on." Molly raked the nails of her other hand over his chest and brushed her foot against his leg. "Well?"

There was no more talking after that. Sherlock set a rough pace for the pair of them which had Molly screaming his name within minutes and him following not long after. It had been a few years since he had indulged in this particular drug, and he had defiantly missed it. It was fantastic. Molly was…is fantastic.

…

When the two woke hours later it was to the noise of the doorbell. "Where you expecting someone?" Holmes said looking down at the girl curled up in his arms, her head rest on his chest.

"No. You?"

"Not that I know about."

*RING* *RING* *RING*

"Hmm me thinks you have a visitor Mr Holmes."

"He can wait. Don't answer it."

"Oops." Molly picked up the phone and laid back against the backboard. "Hello?"

"Molly, its Anthea. Can you let me in? I have some information for Sherlock."

"Yeah sure Anthea…" Molly looked at her bed mate who was trying to sign something to her in an unreadable sign language. 'What?' she mouthed.

"Is my brother with her?"

"….Is Mycroft with you?"

"No?"

"Not with her. You're okay." She answered Sherlock in a whisper.

"I'm off in the shower."

"Hey, sorry about that. I'll be two seconds." Molly put the phone down and dashed around the room getting ready best she could. She liked Anthea, but the woman was so fashionable it made her nervous. Hoping she looked okay in her summer boob-tube dress she ran out towards the front door.

"Hey."

"Hello again. So folders and info for him and gossip for us?" She asked inviting her into the kitchen.

"Yep. So how's things? How are you coping with Sherlock?" Anthea smirked. "Wanting to kill him yet?"

Giggling Molly answered "I did want to kill him but we seem to have come to a…agreement?"

"Oh really?"

"Yep so it's all good. Tea? Coffee?"

"Tea please. And How long have you been sleeping with him?"

_SHIT! How the hell did she? _The pathologist looked down at the kitchen floor which was now covered by the contents of the dropped sugar jar. The noise of which sent Sherlock running out of the bathroom in just a towel. "What's going on I heard…"

"Toby got in the way when Molly was making tea. Nothing to worry about." The dark haired woman winked at him as he turned to leave. "I really can't blame you Molly. He's adorable. Especially when wet."

"God Anthea I'm going to choking on this."

"Well before you do, answer me this. Were you two sleeping together before he faked his death? And if you do choke on that can I have him?"

_I love this woman! _"No we weren't and no you can't. This one is mine you have Mycroft remember?"

"Spoil sport."

"Ladies."

"Sherlock." Came the giggled the reply from both Anthea and Molly.

"I believe you have something for me from my brother. How is he?"

"Yes I do. And he is his normal self Mr Holmes." She handed over the folder with a smile.

"Call me Sherlock."

Molly bit down on her forefinger to prevent herself from the, what would be, uncontrollable laughter which was threatening to bubble out of her at Sherlock statement. _"Call me Sherlock." Dear god! Does he realise what he sounds like? _

"Sherlock. Your brother will phone later on tonight with more information on your flights."

"Fine. Is there any Marmite?"

"There's a new jar in the top cupboard."

"You like that stuff?" Sighed the Goldfish as she stood.

"Yes, I do."

"I'll see you to the door Anthea."

Stood just outside the flats front door she turned to look at Molly. "Domestic bliss. You lucky Bitch" She winked. "Though I would prefer jam to Marmite. Far too bitter for me especially in that _large _amount." Giggling, Anthea was push out of the door.

"Chocolate is far more fun." And with that Molly shut the door on the other woman and headed back to the loosely dressed Holmes who was currently leant against the cooker in his black jeans and green stripe shirt. "So… when do you fly out?"

"End of the month."

"Oh."

"So we have plenty of time."

"For wha-" Molly didn't get a chance to finish her sentence before Sherlock's lips were once again pressing against hers. Her hands where slowly wrapping around his neck. The Game Was On Again.

...

THE END.

Hope you liked it guys


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